Teri tried to parse the nerdy salad dodging geek's instructions into a fructuous Englsh she could make some use of; here, in her cousin Rosie's inviolable cottage in the folds of the Campsie Hills, the bearer of Chicken Soup on an errand of Mercy, she had closed the door against the winds, the shutters against the rain, put logs on the fire and heated the soup on the Raeburn and while Rosie dozed and the storm raged without, after struggling and failing to get online, she had called The Economic Migrant at the house in Drumchapel he shared with his parents and five sisters and wrote down his instructions - she touched the screen and Bingo! she was online and could now post her entry for today on QQ!!! to get an Internet connection, Teri had, in desperation, called The Economic Migrant - a 12-year-old Syrian bot, surviving on pizza and chips in a cupboard under the stairs in the house in Drumchapel he shared with his parents and five sisters, and patiently wrote down his instructions; she touched the screen and Bingo - she was online and could now post her entry for today on QQ!